


Fiesta Loca at Casino Royale

by acorpseinthisbed



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acorpseinthisbed/pseuds/acorpseinthisbed
Summary: "The dress suits you.""Everything suits me, baby. I'm fucking Party Poison."
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Fiesta Loca at Casino Royale

**Author's Note:**

> happy danger day killjoys! [stmichale mentioned this idea a while ago](https://stmichale.tumblr.com/post/627604661630894080/hmmm-im-thinking-about-it) and I wanted to write something for it. I ended up scrapping the first draft and writing this one in one go but I'm pretty happy w it, considering it's my first fic for these characters. hope you guys like it!

_"Some news from the shiny white city, motor babies: Korse and the boys are throwing their very own shindig Casino Royale. Sure to be a good time if your mind's been fried and you've got the cash. Watch for white and if you're looking for a firefight, bring plenty of batteries to the party."_

Poison smiles, mind already racing. They've never been one to turn down a party.

-

"I feel like a fucking Drac."

Party grins, rolling his eyes at Kobra's whining. They lean back in the passenger seat of one of two shiny city cars courtesy of Kobra and one of his infinite contacts, watching the sun set ahead of them. Kobra and Jet, dressed to the nines in their stolen suits, are a couple miles ahead, their car barely visible on the bright horizon. Ghoul grins beside them, fingers twitching and gripping the wheel as they fly through Zone 1.

"You're not even the one in the Drac suit!" Ghoul shouts into the radio in Poison's hand, looking too clean in the stark white suit and black turtleneck. They all cleaned up earlier in the day with actual soap and water on the edge of the city, but Ghoul always wore grease and oil like ever-shifting tattoos, the smell of gunpowder and oil apart of his being after so many years making, destroying, scrapping and playing with explosives. With the grime and dirt and grease washed away, hair combed back and tattoos hidden beneath his layers, he's almost unrecognizable.

"At least you and Jet won't be shaking hands and kissing ass with Korse's cronies," Party mutters into the radio, shifting in their seat, the fabric of their dress sliding against their skin and making them feel naked, exposed. They miss their jacket, the familiar weight of their gun holstered on their thigh. They're just glad they could hide their gun with Ghoul's beneath his Drac suit, taken from the still-warm body at a firefight just a few days ago.

The radio crackles in their hand and Party can easily imagine the flat look Kobra would be giving them if he were here. "Yeah, me and Jet are just stuck on fucking snack duty, pilfering shrimp cocktails and fucking caviar while you're playing dress up with Ghoul. Next time you want to take him on a big night out could you not include us?"

"You're just jealous beause you're a fucking waiter," Ghoul grins, Party tipping their head back and laughing with him as they race down Route Guano toward the city towering ahead.

Jet's voice cuts through Ghoul's manic giggle, muffled by the whistle of wind blowing through the car. "We're getting close. We'll see you guys in a couple hours. Don't get yourselves dusted."

"May the Witch watch over you," Ghoul calls, Kobra, Jet, and Party each saying a quick amen before the radio goes quiet, the outline of the buildings of Bat City blocking the sun from view as they head toward the nearest checkpoint, taken over by a friend of Show Pony's working on the inside. Party crosses their legs, running a hand through freshly dyed hair. They missed the red, but coming into the city with Party Poison hair was just asking for a raygun blast to the head, and Party wasn't about to get them all killed for something so stupid.

"You ready to get this party started?" Ghoul grins as they enter the tunnel leading into the city, the gates open and a girl in white giving them a salute as they speed past.

"Always," Poison grins back.

-

Fun Ghoul, as Poison has learned over the years, is a master bullshitter. It's part of the reason they insisted on Ghoul going into this with them. The fact that they get to hold onto his arm and play adoring couple is just a very nice bonus.

He's won the crowd over as much as they're able with the city rats, their reactions slow, emotions hidden and blocked by the pills the city feeds them. It would almost be sad if Poison didn't know who these people are, how much money they've put into drugging the population and killing anyone brave enough to try to change things. So Poison keeps their mouth shut, smiles and plays the pretty girlfriend. They can see the way Ghoul's jaw clenches after every forced interaction, feels the way his grip tightens just a little around their waist when someone looks at Poison too long, pulling them to him like their own personal shield, keeping them safe. Poison just smiles, leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw and leave a bright red mark on his too-clean face. Ghoul sighs, shoulders relaxing, but he doesn't let go of them.

"I fucking hate the city," Ghoul murmurs into their hair, and Poison smiles, like he said something sweet. They can feel Ghoul's hand shaking on their hip and wraps their arm tighter around his waist.

"I know, Ghoul. We'll be out again as fast as we can," Poison murmurs, breath hitching when Ghoul sighs and presses a kiss to their hair. _It's just part of the act_ , they remind themself, trying to keep their face neutral, vacantly happy in the way everyone else's are. They feel Ghoul nod against the side of their head, mourning the loss of his lips against their head, the warm breath fanning their hair, as he pulls away slightly and they move further into the casino.

"Come on, honey, let's find a seat," Ghoul murmurs into their ear in that ridiculous lilting drawl he's been using, words slow like syrup as he guides them toward the tables with a hand pressed to the small of their back. They'd each pocketed a handful of stolen chips on their way in, and as they sit at a table in the middle of the room they put down a chip each, the dealer shuffling the deck before doling out cards. Poison crosses their legs under the table, watching, and leans into Ghoul's side, his hand on their leg beneath the table, warm and solid.

"Do you have any idea how to play this?" Poison murmurs. Ghoul grins, small but genuine, and it immediately settles Poison, makes them feel infinitely better as he curves his body toward their's.

"I don't even know what game this is," Ghoul murmurs back, and Poison snickers behind their hand.

"Me either."

"We'll figure it out," Ghoul replies, smirking. Poison grins back. They're so glad to have Ghoul with them. Even if it all goes to shit, at least they'll have a good time.

-

"How much do you wanna bet they're just fucking around out there?" Kobra mutters as he picks the lock to one of the doors along a back hall near the kitchen, Jet standing at the fork of the hall to keep watch.

"Oh, definitely. Let's just hope they buy us enough time to find something worth taking before we all run out of here in a hail of raygun blasts."

Kobra snorts, the lock clicking beneath his fingers, and he slips inside.

-

They don't figure out how to play the game, but somehow Ghoul still manages to win twice, Poison pouring the piles of chips into their little handbag with a smile.

"Great game," Ghoul grins, shaking hands with the other two players, an older man and woman, their answering smiles tight and fake. Poison hides their grin against Ghoul's shoulder as they turn to head toward the windows at the back of the room to exchange the chips for cash. Even if Jet and Kobra aren't able to find anything, they have enough cash to last them a good long while, which is better than Poison was expecting. Ghoul wraps an arm around them and they head toward the dining hall off to the side, filled with enough food to feed every zone rat for days.

"Jesus, how long has it been since we've had fruit?" Ghoul mutters, taking a small pile of grapes and a couple small oranges. Poison shakes their head, plucking one of the grapes from his plate and popping it into their mouth.

"I didn't think you knew what fruit was," Poison grins, Ghoul's bark of surprised laughter loud amongst the murmuring voices. Poison grins.

"I told Jet and Kobra to grab as much food from the back as they could right before we're set to go, make it look like they're tossing the leftovers. It's disgusting how much shit these people waste," they mutter, Ghoul nodding along as he piles his plate high with food.

"You think they're doing alright?" Poison asks, looking toward the exits and the kitchen, as if Jet and Kobra will appear from one of the doors. Ghoul squeezes them, reassuring them as he leads them to sit at an empty table near the corner, walls at their backs and every entrance visible from where they sit in case the party starts early and they need to start shooting.

"They'll be alright. And if they're not, we'll know, and we'll be ready," he murmurs. Poison nods, plucking another grape from Ghoul's plate and popping it into their mouth, eyes still on the doors.

"Hey."

Poison turns, and Ghoul gives them a small smile, hand coming to rest over Poison's on the table.

"They'll be fine, Poison."

Poison nods, smiling back, some of the nerves disappearing as Ghoul grins.

"Now come on, let's eat all their food and figure out our next move before we spike the punch and blast our way out of here."

Poison snorts out a laugh, Ghoul's grin bright and sly as he downs the fancy punch Poison got them like a shot, Poison doing the same with their own before they both dig in and talk strategy.

-

The rooms have been a bust. No information, barely any valuables, and an annoying amount of locked doors. Kobra's almost been caught three times now, but Jet's been watching his back, keeping anyone who comes too close distracted and redirecting them away while Kobra finishes the job. They've got a small stack of cash, a few things to pawn, and not much else. Kobra grumbles as he shuts the last door in the hall behind him, Jet giving him a sympathetic look.

"Let's hope Ghoul and Poison had a better time than we did."

Jet nods. "Come on, let's check the kitchen and grab whatever food we can, take it out to the car. Ghoul and Poison should be getting bored with play acting soon."

Kobra nods, looking up and down the hall before following Jet toward the kitchen.

-

"It looks like we might have a fan," Poison mutters to Ghoul, who to his credit doesn't look up immediately, nodding as he takes another bite.

"Ten o'clock," Poison mutters, and Ghoul's gaze flickers to the left.

They watch a balding man in a dark suit make his way along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous as he turns to look back at their table. The executive has been eyeing Ghoul since they sat down at the card table with him before dinner, his eyes always studying Ghoul, his hands, his face. It made Poison twitchy, fingers itching for their gun still tucked beneath Ghoul's jacket.

The executive, who's name Poison didn't bother to catch or remember, had been staring as they ate, from Ghoul to Poison and back again, eyes too bright, too focused. And when Poison saw him heading for a guard stationed near the entrance to the back halls, eyes still on them, they may have acted before thinking it through completely.

But as the guard turned, following the finger the executive was pointing right at their table, looking right at Ghoul, right at Poison, Poison didn't stop to ask for Ghoul's opinion on the situation. They reached inside Ghoul's jacket, pulled their raygun from the back of his pants, and shot the guard and the exec in two quick shots.

The party was a lot more entertaining after that.

Ghoul, grinning wild and bright, pulls his own gun and starts shooting, each taking aim at the guards stationed near the doorways. People ran and ducked, screaming between shots, but Ghoul and Poison always hit their intended targets, weaving behind tables and partygoers as they make their way toward the exits.

"Let's hope Kobra and Jet are ready to go," Poison yells behind them, where Ghoul is firing off his last few shots and laughing like a hyena before taking Poison's hand and running alongside them, turning to look over their shoulders for company as Poison leads them to the back exits and out to the parking lot.

They throw themselves into the car just as Jet and Kobra come running from another door, a couple boxes in hand. Jet waves them off and Poison starts up the getaway car, pulling out and slamming onto the gas as soon as they're facing the road. Ghoul is already hanging from the passenger window, covering for them all as Jet and Kobra throw their cargo into their own car and start the engine, speeding out of the lot right behind Poison and Ghoul. Poison can still hear Ghoul laughing over the wind whipping his hair out of place, turns to see him smiling before turning back to the road, a matching grin on their face.

They speed through the empty tunnel and out into the desert with little fanfare, Kobra and Ghoul easily taking out any Dracs that come their way. By Zone 2 they're alone again, Ghoul flopping into the seat beside Poison with a grin on his face.

"We'll have to keep our heads down and eyes open the next week or two; they won't be too happy that we got into the city and made all that noise," Poison mutters, but Ghoul is still grinning.

"It was worth it."

Poison thinks of the cash in their purse, the boxes of food for their posse and any zone rats they can find on the way back to the diner, and they can't help but grin back.

"Yeah, it was."

They drop the cars off with Kobra's contact on the edge of Zone 2, trading the shiny city cars for the trans am and Kobra and Jet's bikes. Jet and Kobra speed ahead, side by side, to make sure the road is clear, leaving Poison and Ghoul with the car, the boxes of food and water in the back.

"We can drop the food off with Show Pony later; they'll be able to get the word out and get the zone rats fed," Poison murmurs, the static of the radio familiar as they speed toward Zone 6.

Ghoul doesn't answer, and eventually Poison turns toward him, brows furrowed. He's looking at them, kind of thoughtfully with a small smile on his face. "What?"

Ghoul shrugs. "I was just thinking you make a good trophy wife."

Poison snorts. "I'm pretty sure I'm a better shot than most trophy wives," they grin, but they can feel their face burning, color high in their cheeks. Ghoul grins back.

"The dress suits you."

Poison eyes him, but Ghoul doesn't seem to be teasing or making fun of them. They nod, grinning.

"Everything suits me, baby. I'm fucking Party Poison."

Ghoul laughs, loud and bright, and doesn't disagree.


End file.
